


The Wolf and the Bull

by Emmalyne_Amell



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light BDSM, Love Triangle, Romance, Series, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6131188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmalyne_Amell/pseuds/Emmalyne_Amell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leith Lavellan is desperately in love with Solas, and he seems to be in love with her... so why does he ignore her advances?  Meanwhile, Leith is more and more drawn to another member of the Inquisition: the Iron Bull.  While her heart belongs to one, the other can show her more passion than she'd ever dreamed possible.  Whom will she choose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue taken directly from cut scenes in the game. I do not own Dragon Age.

    There was a door there.     
    Well, of course there was a door.  She was standing in front of it, staring at it, considering whether or not to go in.  Leith knew that Solas was inside- studying, contemplating, meditating, whatever it was he did when he was alone.  And he was often alone.  Leith often found herself in this very situation: seeking Solas out, wishing to see him.  Sometimes it was simply for guidance and advice, while at other times she simply craved being in his presence, hearing his voice, being gifted with one of his rare smiles.      
    It was always Leith Levellan taking the initiative, going to Solas’s rooms, wanting to see him.  For once, she wished it were the other way around.     But there was a metaphorical door, too.  
    Her feelings for Solas were ones she had never bothered to hide.  That was never Leith’s style.  When she wanted something, she went for it.  It had been the same when she’d lived with the clan; Leith had had no problem finding lovers when the mood struck.  Self-confidence was certainly not something she lacked.  When she wanted a man, she told him, and if he wanted her, then they would share a bed for a time.  If he rejected her, then it was nothing personal, they simply stayed friends and went on with their lives.    
    But this thing with Solas was entirely different.  They’d shared a kiss in the Fade, and another on the balcony of her room in Skyhold.  Still, Leith had trouble getting near to Solas.  There was a barrier there that she somehow could not get passed.  In the past, if Solas had been any other man, Leith would have lost interest by now, and moved on.  
    But Solas was not just any other man.  Every day, Leith’s feelings for him grew stronger.  She admired his wisdom, his seemingly constant fountain of knowledge, and his unconventional opinions of spirits and the Fade.  Being a hunter, Leith had never thought much about such things in her life.  Magic was the Keeper’s business, and not her concern.  At first, when Leith listened to Solas go on and on about the Fade, she did so with feigned interest, simply as an attempt to flatter him.  Yet after a time, Solas’s ideas and different ways of thinking became a thing of fascination for her.    
    Solas was not like the elves of her clan, nor like any other elves Leith had met.  He seemed to know more about elvhen culture and the ancient ways than anyone, as though he had been there himself.  And he seemed he think very highly of her, as well, or at least he’d said so.    
    Leith could not help but smile secretly to herself when she thought of the last time she and Solas had kissed.  It had been nearly two weeks ago, in her room, when he’d asked to have a word with her in private.  They’d spoken out on the balcony, and Solas had asked her if the Mark had changed her at all, if she’d been different before she got it.  The question had thrown Leith off guard- she wasn’t quite certain what he was getting at.    
    Then he’d kissed her- a soft, yet intense meeting of lips, his arms folded around her waist and pulling her close.  His tongue had slipped every-so-subtly inside her mouth to tease the tip of hers, and he’d tasted of spiced wine and wild forests.  Leith would never forget the way he tasted, the warmth of his body, and the way her own had felt both hot and cold at the same time.  Leith had been with her fair share of men, having kissed many and bedded a few.  But nothing could compare to the electricity of Solas’s touch, of his lips and tongue melding with hers.    
    After that, all Leith could think about was wanting Solas to kiss her again, to hold her as he had before, and to do so much more.    
    Yet every time they spoke after that, Solas seemed uninterested in bringing it up.  He always greeted her warmly when she approached, giving her a sweet smile, but Leith knew that something was not quite right.  There was a door between them (the metaphoric one, not the actual one), one that Solas refused to open entirely.  He might leave it open a crack, but just a crack, and no matter how she tried, Leith could not push her way through.  When they were out on a mission, Solas was completely focused only on the task at hand.  And when Leith tried to visit with him in Skyhold, the only subjects he was interested in speaking of were academic ones.    
    It was not as if Leith hadn’t tried to veer the direction of their encounters.  On many occasions, when she visited Solas in his rooms, she would find him poring over letters and old books at his desk.  She frequently attempted to distract him by coming up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, placing a kiss on his cheek or his ear.  But these actions seemed unable to deter him from his concentration.  Solas would simply squeeze her hand, like a child, and tell her he was very busy, too busy, for “social calls” at the moment.    
    It was a serious blow to Leith’s ego.  She was not exactly a master of seduction, but then, she’d never needed to be one before.  She did not know what to do, how to make Solas see just how much she wanted him, needed him.  Usually Leith was very direct, and had no problem saying what she wanted.  But with Solas, for the first time in her life, Leith’s confidence was shaken.    
    Now, as she stood outside the door to Solas’s room, Leith wondered what she might say.    
   _“I want you, Solas.  I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.  I’m going crazy from thinking about it, about you.  Please, Solas, make love to me!”_  
    Ugh, that sounded so pathetic.  Leith would never resort to such a desperate act as begging.  Maybe if she just walked in, took off her clothes, and stood there, waiting for Solas to react.  Then she’d sweep all of the books and papers off of his desk and onto the floor, then lie back on the surface in her most suggestive pose.    
    Solas would probably tell her to put her clothes on, it was drafty in there, she’d likely catch cold.  Then he would grumble about how she’d made a mess of his research, pick up all of the papers and try to put them back in order on the desk, pushing her aside to make room.    
    Leith sighed, pressing her forehead against the heavy wooden door.  She had never been so uncertain of herself.  Even when she’d been asked to take on the role of Inquisitor, Leith had not hesitated for a moment.  She knew she was the leader that these people needed, and she was good at thinking on her feet and making tough decisions.  But when it came to Solas, she felt like a lost child, confused and wandering, unsure which direction to take.    
    If only he could see what he was doing to her, how he made her feel.  How her heart leapt when she was near him, and how she longed to feel his touch, to taste him, to be loved and wanted.  If only he needed her as much as she needed him.  
    “There you are!”  
    Leith nearly jumped out of her skin, feeling like a child who’d been caught doing something wrong.  She quickly turned and pretended to be leaning casually against the door.  It was the Iron Bull, and Leith was almost as surprised to see him in the main hall as she was to have her thoughts interrupted by him.  Normally the Qunari mercenary never left the tavern.    
     “Bull!  What, uh, what can I do for you?”  Leith tried to appear casual as she folded her arms over her chest and crossed one leg over the other.    
    Iron Bull looked to be too worked up to notice anything out of the ordinary.  Leith noted the toothy grin on his face, saw that he was armed and ready for a fight.    
    Oh, shit.  Another dragon hunt.  
    “Guess what, Boss?”  Iron Bull gripped the giant, long-handled axe at his side, then lifted it to drape casually over his shoulder.  “We’ve got ourselves a confirmed Frostback sighting in the northern Hinterlands.  Word from Scout Harding says that she’s been burning up the countryside in that area, asked if we could do something about that.  What d’ya say?”  
    The Qunari continued grinning from ear-to-ear, and Leith stifled a chuckle.  Iron Bull was like a child in a sweets shop when it came to dragons.  Leith, on the other hand, had not considered their first fight with a beast on the Storm Coast much of a fun time.  Iron Bull had been overly ambitious, charging directly at the Vinsomer with an emphatic war cry, but Leith knew that the creature was too much for them, and it had taken all the strength of her as well as their companions’ to get Bull out of there.  They had barely made out with their lives, and Leith had received a nice lightning burn on her left calf to show for it.    
    Leith greatly admired Iron Bull’s fearlessness, even if it did get them all into trouble at times.  She’d often enjoyed listening to his tales of adventure with the Chargers while having a drink or two in the tavern.  Bull was nearly always at her side during a fight, her right-hand warrior on most missions.  He was always forthright, and had no trouble saying what was on his mind, like Leith herself, and she found that they got along splendidly.    
    It didn’t hurt that he had the body of a god, either.    
    Leith wouldn’t say that she had romantic feelings for the Qunari, but she couldn’t deny her attraction.  His strength and massive size had piqued her interest on a number of levels.  She often flirted with him, and he returned with flirtations of his own, often hinting at his taste for redheads.  But there was nothing serious about their banter, at least not on her end, and she doubted Iron Bull had any serious intentions toward her, either.  Still, she thought him a good friend, and considered their light teasing was all in fun.    
    That didn’t mean she was eager to go chasing dragons, however.    
    “I seem to remember what happened the last time you went hunting down a dragon,” Leith reminded him.  “I believe it took three of us piled on top of you to get you back to your senses.  That Vinsomer was way out of our league.  What makes you think this one will be any different?”  
    “Bah!”  Iron Bull waved a hand in dismissal.  “I could’ve taken that one down by myself if you’d let me.  I was only thinking about your safety.”  He winked, and Leith felt her face flush, but she rolled her eyes to hide it.  “Besides,” Bull went on, “This ones a cinch.  I’m only asking you to come along because I thought you could use a chance to let off some steam.  What do you say, Inquisitor?”    
    Leith took a moment to consider his proposal.  Going up against a dragon was not her idea of fun in the slightest.  But if Scout Harding was asking for assistance, then this wasn’t something to take lightly.  Redcliffe village rested not far from the area where the Frostback had made her nest.  Perhaps this was something that she should look into.  
    And Iron Bull was correct in one thing: she could stand to blow off some steam.  
    Leith shrugged.  “All right, Bull.  Let’s go kill a dragon.”

 

 _This was a bad idea._  
    Leith struggled to get to her feet, and she felt Solas setting a protective barrier around her.  The dragon was circling overhead, and patches of fire were burning all around them.  The Ferelden Frostback was diving toward them once again, spewing fire in its wake, and Leith performed a dodge roll to get out of its path, dangerously close to getting singed.  The dragon took off once more, flying off into the distance.  Leith kept her eye on it closely, watching its movements, anticipating its next attack.    
    “Everyone, get ready!” she commanded.  “It’s about to land!”  
    Leith, Iron Bull, Solas, and Varric all readied themselves as the dragon came in hard and fast, claws screeching against the rocky terrain.  Leith readied her poisoned daggers, then disappeared in a cloud of smoke to flank the beast.  She heard the Iron Bull shout something in Qunari before emitting a raucous bout of laughter and charging at the Frostback’s head, broad axe swinging.  Solas was executing his strongest spells, shooting a blast of Winter’s Grasp full-force at the creature, while Varric used Bianca, his trusty crossbow, to shoot a hail of arrows at the beast.    
    Leith managed to circle around to the dragon’s hindquarters, then sank both of her daggers into its left flank.  The Frostback roared, then with impressive quickness turned to face where Leith stood.  Its head was just inches from her, its eyes blazing as its teeth bared down upon her.  In a flash, Leith did a back flip to distance herself, and the monster clamped down its mighty jaws upon air.    
    “Leith!”  It was Solas calling out to her, a note of panic in his voice.  Leith sprinted to the left, saw him attacking the dragon in a fit of rage and determination.  For a moment, she was moved by Solas’s reaction to the fear of her being hurt, but she didn’t have time to appreciate the feeling for long.  The dragon had found her again, was bearing down upon her.  Leith reached into her pouch to find another flask of liquid smoke, but was startled to find that she was out.    
     _Not good at all._  
    The dragon was nearly on her now, stalking forward to claim its prey, and Leith’s mind raced as she tried to think of what to do next.    
    Just then, the Iron Bull appeared, stepping in front of her to block the beast’s attack.    
    “Come on!” Iron Bull screamed at the creature.  “You want some of this?!”    
    The dragon lifted its giant head, opened its jaws wide, and let out a earth-shattering roar.  Leith felt her balance weaken, cringing at the ringing in her ears, and she struggled to keep her equilibrium in check.  Suddenly, she was knocked aside with the force of a hurricane as the dragon’s wing swept her off her feet, and she went sailing several feet through the air.  The last thing she remembered was her head knocking against a rock before everything went black. 

 

   “She’s waking up!”  
    Leith’s eyelids fluttered open, and she struggled to adjust to her surroundings.  They were still in the clearing where they battled the Frostback, but things seemed much calmer now.  Solas was kneeling at her side, and standing above her she saw Varric and Iron Bull looking down at her with concern.  
    “ _Ma vhenan_ ,” Solas called to her softly.  “Are you all right?”  
    Solas helped Leith to sit up, slowly.  She was on the ground, her entire body ached, and her head hurt like hell.  But she was alive.  As were they all, thank the creators.    
    “Did we get it?” she asked.  
    There was a burst of triumphant laughter from Iron Bull.  “Oh, yeah.  We got it.  You missed the best part of the battle, Boss.  Glad you’re okay, though.”  
    “It was a close one,” Varric chimed in.  “Thought we’d lost you there for a minute.”  
    Solas assisted Leith to her feet.  She put her weight on him, allowing herself to find comfort for a moment in his arms.  She nearly forgot that the others were there watching her, and she buried her face in Solas’s chest.  In that moment, all Leith wanted was to sink into Solas’s embrace, for him to kiss her and comfort her.    
    For a brief second, Solas indulged her by placing a hand on her head, then gently stroking her closely-cropped crimson hair.  Leith sighed deeply, snuggling her head against his shoulder.  But the moment ended too quickly, as much to Leith’s disappointment, Solas carefully pulled away from her.    
    “We should return to Skyhold,” Solas said matter-of-factly.  “You need your rest.”    
    Leith felt a sudden sense of loss, as tears of frustration sprang to her eyes.  A million thoughts raced through her brain.  What had just happened?  One minute Solas was embracing her, showing her deep affection, and the next he was suddenly cold.  She watched sadly as Solas walked away from the clearing, in the direction of the camp.    
    A hand rested on Leith’s shoulder, and she turned to see Iron Bull standing next to her.  “Screw rest,” he said lightheartedly.  “I say we go back and have a few drinks to celebrate!”  
    Leith pushed down her hurt feelings and smiled up at her companion.  “Yeah, sure.  Sounds like a great idea.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, I apologize. It was supposed to be longer, but I really just wanted to get something more out there. It's based on the cut scene in Inquisition where the Inquisitor has drinks with the Iron Bull in the tavern after killing their first dragon. Most dialogue was taken directly from the game. 
> 
> I do not own Dragon Age or its characters.

    The tavern was nearly full when Leith walked inside.  She’d nearly considered forgoing Iron Bull’s invitation for a drink, but she knew that sleep was an impossibility.    
    After returning to Skyhold, Leith had one of the healers look over her wounds, which were thankfully minor.  She took a health poultice to dull the lingering pain, then disappeared into her rooms.  She’d laid in her bed, though was unable to get any true rest, thanks to thoughts of Solas.  As the evening fell, Leith made her way down the stairs and towards Solas’s room.  She’d walked through the door without bothering to knock, eager to have a real conversation with him.  However, Leith had found his rooms empty, and there was no sign of where Solas had gone.  
    Her frustration at its peak, Leith decided that she’d have that drink after all.  She marched into the tavern and walked straight up to the bar next to where the Iron Bull was seated.    
    “Inquisitor!”  Bull greeted Leith with a broad smile and a lift of his glass.  “Come have a drink!”  
    It seemed that he had started without her.  Forcing a smile, Leith nodded, and the barkeep shook his head as he placed a bottle on the bar in front of her, along with an empty mug.  Leith watched as the Iron Bull poured the bottle of dark liquid into her cup.  The smell was atrocious, and she wrinkled her nose.    
    “To killing a high dragon, like warriors of legend,” Bull toasted.    
    Leith lifted her cup in salute, and steeling her reserve, took a drink.  The stuff was like tar, and she barely managed to swallow it down before choking and gasping for breath.    
    Iron Bull grinned.  “I know, right?  Put some chest on your chest!”  
    Finally managing to catch her breath, Leith wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  How could anyone drink this stuff?  Before she could ask him what the hell it was, Bull was speaking again.  
    “That little gurgle right before it spat fire.  And that roar!  What I wouldn’t give to roar like that.”  His voice was filled with admiration, and he looked like he was somewhere far away in his mind.  “The way the ground shook when it landed.  The smell of fires burning.  _Taarsidath-han halsaam_.  You know, Qunari hold dragons sacred?  Well, as much as we hold anything sacred.”  
    Bull paused to pour more of the drink into Leith’s cup.  “Here,” he said, “Your turn.”  
    She was not exactly eager to taste more of the wretched stuff.  Leith hesitated, asking him a question instead.  “That thing you just said- you shouted it during the fight, too.  What does it mean?”  
    “What?  _Taarsidath-han halsaam?_ ”  Iron Bull grinned.  “The closest translation would be: ‘I will bring myself sexual pleasure later while thinking about this with great respect.’”  
    Leith laughed.  “You shouted that while it was breathing fire at us?”  
    “I know, right?”  He emitted a guttural, primal sound, a pleased smile on his weathered face.    
    Chuckling, Leith lifted her cup for another drink.  She must have already forgotten what it was she was drinking, and once again she was coughing and gasping on the potent liquor.    
    “Yeah, the second cup’s easier,” Iron Bull said, and Leith gave him a look as if he had sprouted two more horns on his head.  “Most of the nerves in your throat are dead after the first one.”  
    Leith was surprised to find she was already feeling the effects of the drink.  Her head felt like it was floating, and she had to take a moment to situate herself on her stool so she wouldn’t fall over.    
    “ _Atashi_ ,” Bull was saying, “The glorious ones.  That’s our word for them.  _A-ta-sheeee_.”  
    Leith snickered.  “When you put it like that, I’m worried we killed one of your gods or something.”  
    He shook his head.  “Nah.  One of Tevinter’s gods, maybe.  They worshipped dragons, right?  Kill the shit out of them all you like.  Dragons are the embodiment of raw power.  But it’s all uncontrolled, savage.”    
    Bull took a long drink from his cup, then slammed it down on the bar.  He picked up the bottle once more, topping off Leith’s cup as well as refilling his own.  “So,” he went on, “they need to be destroyed.  Order out of chaos.  Here, have another drink.”  
    Leith nearly protested, not certain she would be able to stand another drop of the wicked stuff.  However, Iron Bull was watching her closely, and for some reason she found that she did not wish to disappoint him.  So she took a deep breath, said a silent prayer to the creators, and gulped down her cup.    
    Surely she should have acquired at least a small taste for it by now, Leith thought, but much to her dismay, she once again erupted into a fit of coughing.    
    Iron Bull laugh uproariously, lifting his own mug in salute.  “To dragons!” he cheered.  
    Leith was really done for it now.  Her head was swimming, and she was swaying on her seat.  Still, she admitted to herself that the drink had made her forget her troubles, for the moment, and for that she was grateful.  
    “To the Iron Bull!” she cheered, lifting her cup in one hand, and placing the other on his arm.  
    He grinned at her.  “And his ass-kicking Inquisitor!”    
    “Damn right!”    
    Now fully intoxicated, Leith took a long drink.  To her pleased surprise, she managed to keep from choking this time.    
    For the next hour, Leith and Bull swapped war stories, joked and laughed, and at one time, Leith even joined in on one of the bard’s tunes.  She could not remember the last time she had been able to forget her troubles, to have fun and be herself, not just the Inquisitor.  It was late into the night when Leith decided she should head back to her room.  However, the moment she stepped down from the barstool, Leith nearly lost her footing and tumbled downward.    
    Thanks to his surprisingly quick reflexes, Iron Bull managed to catch her by the waist before Leith crashed to the floor.  Normally she would have been embarrassed, but thanks to the drinks she and Iron Bull had consumed, Leith only laughed uproariously while Bull chuckled.  
    “I think you may need a hand getting back to your quarters,” he said.    
    “I think you are right,” Leith giggled, placing her weight against the large Qunari warrior as he wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her through the tavern.    
    The main hall was empty as they made their way toward Leith’s rooms.  Leith was grateful for the Iron Bull’s assistance as he led her through the door to her quarters and up the staircase.  They made it to her bedroom door at last, and Iron Bull released his strong hold on her.  
    “Thanks, Bull,” Leith said.  She meant it, and for more than just helping her stand upright.  He had been a true friend to her tonight, and she had needed a friend.  
    “No problem, boss,” Bull replied.  “Think you can take it from here?”  
    Leith nodded.  Her head was still swimming slightly, but her balance had returned.  She leaned against the door frame and grinned up at her companion.  “I just hope I can make it to the bed without any trouble.”  
    Iron Bull smiled, and leaned casually against the other side of the door, crossing his arms over his massive bared chest.    
    “I could carry you,” he offered.  “Or, if you’d like, I could stay and keep you company.”  
    His tone was more than suggestive, his voice low and soft.  Leith blushed, suddenly at a loss for words, and shifted her gaze to the opposite wall.  Iron Bull had flirted with her on a number of occasions, and true, she had flirted right back.  But it had never been anything serious, only playful banter.  
   _Right?_  
    For a moment, Leith felt her entire body flush with heat.  If this had been a year ago, before she was Inquisitor, before everything had happened, Leith knew she would have taken Iron Bull up on his offer in a second.    
    But what about Solas?  
    Her feelings for the elf mage still haunted her thoughts, and Leith felt a sudden pang of regret that it was Bull asking to join her in her bed, and not Solas.  A frown creased her mouth, but knowing that he was still waiting for her response, she quickly transitioned into a shy smile.    
    “Perhaps not tonight,” Leith told him.  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay awake for much longer.  I fear I might pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow.”  
    Leith looked at the Iron Bull’s face, gauging his reaction.  To her relief, the Qunari simply shrugged, and gave her a nonchalant smile.    
    “All right, then.  Good night, Leith.”  
    He turned and walked down the stairs, seemingly unperturbed by Leith’s rejection.  She watched him walk away only for a moment before hurrying inside her room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really gave me some trouble. It took a while to get over some irritating writer's block, plus there was a lot of research involved, especially with the elven language/history. Speaking of which, I'm fairly certain that I butchered the language, since there was a lot of guess work involved! So forgive me, those of you who know Elvhen much better than I do (and please feel free to correct me, if need be!). 
> 
> *Also, finally, some smut!*
> 
> I still do not own Dragon Age or its characters.

    It was dusk in the forest, and strangely quiet.  No birds sang, there was no breeze, and no living creature in sight.  Sighing, Leith lowered her bow and leaned back against a nearby tree.  Usually hunting helped her to relax, but with the forest empty, there was little she could do except maybe target practice.    
    She was at least two miles from Skyhold.  If she started now, she could be back before the sun set, though just barely.  A part of her did not wish to return.  In truth, Leith missed being out in the wilderness, sleeping beneath the stars, surrounded by trees.  The Dalish never slept inside cold stone walls, or on imported Orlesian four-poster beds.  They lived outdoors, closer to nature; it was a large part of their lifestyle, allowing them to be nearer to the gods.  Leith was not the most spiritual by nature, but she had always felt more at home beneath an open sky and with grass and rock under her feet.    
    But she was the Inquisitor now, and Leith supposed that not returning to Skyhold tonight might cause a bit of a stir.  She could just imagine the panic on Josephine, Cullen, and Leliana’s faces.  _“Inquisitor Levellan has disappeared!  She’s all alone!  We must send a search party out at once!”_  
   _Ugh_.  If only she could go on holiday, just for one day.  Perhaps when all this business with Corypheus was over.    
    A sound came from the brush just behind her.  Snapping into focus, Leith stood very still and silently nocked an arrow.  She paused, and listened intently to the footfalls- not an animal, but a person.  Who else would be out here, this far from Skyhold?  
    As the stranger came nearer, Leith listened, waiting for just the right moment.  Then in one swift movement, she drew the bow and turned, stepping out from behind the tree.    
    The arrow was pointed directly between Solas’s eyes, who stopped just a few feet away.    
    “Solas!”  Leith quickly lowered her weapons.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”  
    “Forgive me,” the mage spoke in his usual calm, even tone.  He didn’t even appear to be alarmed by the fact that Leith had nearly shot an arrow into his head.   “I did not mean to startle you.”    
    “What are you doing out here?”  Leith placed the unloosed arrow back in its quiver, and lowered the bow at her side.    
    “I was simply out for a walk to clear my head.  And you?”  
    Leith shrugged.  “The same.  Sort of.  Thought I might do some hunting, but game is scarce tonight, apparently.”    
    Solas smiled.  Leith felt her heart jump in her chest at the sight.  He was always handsome, even when somber, but his rare smiles always warmed her down to the depths of her soul.    
    “I suppose we both needed time away from Skyhold,” Solas said.  “Perhaps we could walk together?”  
    Leith grinned, unable to help herself, feeling like an excited child.  “I’d love that,” she replied.    
    Solas offered his arm, and Leith took it, shyly, and as they strolled through the trees, the setting sun created a dappled light on silvery emerald leaves above.  It was truly beautiful here in the spring.  Leith did not miss the merciless cold of Haven, and though they were not far from the Frostbacks, the Dales’ landscape was still somehow luscious and green.    
    They walked for several minutes in silence at first, before Leith abruptly turned to him and said, “Solas, I must ask you something.”  
    “Of course.  What is it you wish to know?”  
    Leith was not quite sure how to form the words.  They continued to walk at a leisurely pace, as Solas waited patiently for Leith to speak.    
     _Just say how you feel,_ Leith mentally chastised herself.  But it wasn’t that simple.  Not with him.    
    Finally, Leith halted, and Solas stopped as well.  She turned so that they were facing each other, and took a deep breath to steady her nerves.  “You’ve told me that you admire me,” she began, “and that kiss we shared… well, I thought that it would speak for itself about how I feel for you.”    
    She looked up into his eyes, searching for some kind of sign, any sort of emotion that would give away his feelings.  Solas appeared only to be listening, although attentively.    
    “Well, anyway.”  Leith fidgeted nervously.  “I just need to tell you that… I have very deep feelings for you, Solas.  In fact, I think I may be in love with you.  And I know that you told me you loved me, that day on the balcony.  But lately I feel... well, that my feelings for you may be stronger than yours for me.”    
    The words just came out, awkwardly, but to the point, Leith felt.  She waited, holding her breath, for Solas’s response.  It seemed an eternity before he had any sort of reaction.    
    He looked at her, his face filled with a mixture of emotions.  His mouth curved slightly, into a small smile, but his eyes somehow looked sad.  Solas lifted his hands to her face, and gently stroked the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs.  Leith sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to relish his touch on her skin.  Then she opened her eyes again, searching his face, silently pleading for an answer.    
    “Words can hardly express the depth of my feelings for you,” Solas finally spoke, and Leith was surprised to hear a slight catch in his voice.  “But perhaps I can show you.”  
    Solas took her hand in his and led her further into the woods.  As the trees began to thin out, Leith heard a sound like rushing water.  They came upon a clearing, and there laid a stream, headed by a twenty-foot-high waterfall.  There was no gushing of water, but instead a gentle flow which cascaded down the falls and continued leisurely down the river.  The sounds of the water bubbling and rolling slowly over the rocks was soothing, and Leith felt a calm fall over her.    
    “It’s beautiful,” she told Solas, and he nodded in agreement.    
    “Yes.  But this is not all I wished you to see.”  
    Still holding her hand, Solas guided Leith closer to the cliffside, near the waterfall.  He let her go at last to search the rock face, until he found what he was looking for: a veilfire brazier.  With a wave of his hand, he summoned the bluish-green, magical flame, and the brazier glowed.    
    Solas knelt down next to the rock wall and searched the grass, then picked up a torch.  Convenient, Leith thought, though she guessed he must have placed the item there himself.  She watched as Solas lit the torch with the veilfire, then he turned to Leith and said, “Come.  This way.”    
    He disappeared behind the waterfall, and it was only then that Leith realized that there was a cave within the high rock wall.  Had it been there before?  Or had Solas somehow made it appear with magic?  Slightly apprehensive, Leith followed.    
    Leith hated caves, hated being underground, or enclosed within the earth in any fashion.  She had no idea how some dwarves could live without the sky over their heads.  It made her feel trapped, and it was always dark, and even with torches you could barely see an inch in front of your face.  Not to mention the deepstalkers, or the giant spiders, who often lurked in such forsaken places.    
    This cave was hardly any different.  It was dark, and damp, and it smelled.  No signs of spiders or deepstalkers, at least.  Yet.    
_Why the hell did Solas bring me here?_ Leith stayed close as Solas led them deeper into the cave, and in a moment of child-like vulnerability, she took a handful of fabric from the back of Solas’s shirt and held tight.  Leith thought she heard him breathe a chuckle, but she couldn’t be certain.  He did not protest as she kept her grasp on him while they moved forward.    
    They went in further, the veilfire torch lighting the way.  Finally, Solas stopped, lifting the torch higher and facing a high rock wall.  Leith followed Solas’s gaze upward, and she breathed in a gasp of awe.  
    The wall was covered with a series of painted scenes, depicting two figures- a man and a woman.  They appeared to be telling a story, and were painted vertically, reading from top to bottom.  To the right of the pictures were a set of vertical runes, glowing gently, reacting to the veilfire.    
    “It’s beautiful,” Leith mused softly.  “What do the runes say?”  
    “It is an ancient form of Elvhen.  They tell a story that was lost to the ages.”  Still holding the torch aloft, Solas began to read the runes.  “An elven woman from Arlathan encountered a human man, an immigrant from Par Vollen.  It was a time of fear and uncertainty among the elven people, for the shemlans were growing in number.  Death and disease, which were once unknown to the elves, had become more frequent occurrences, and the elves blamed the humans, believing them to be responsible.  Despite all this, the man and woman fell in love, much to the displeasure of their families.    
    “Knowing they could never be left alone to live in peace, they left Arlathan and made their way south, to the Drylands.  They lived alone in the wilderness for some time, happily.  Until the elf became ill, and drew dangerously close to death’s door.  Fearing for her life, her human lover insisted that they return to Arlathan, in hopes that the elves there could cure her.  When they reached the city, the elven woman was returned to her people, but they would not allow the shemlan to stay at her side.  Before leaving, the man knelt at the elf’s sickbed, and he whispered to her a vow that he would wait for her in the Drylands, until she returned to him.”    
    Leith was following along with the paintings as Solas read the runes.  The scenes he described were depicted there: the lost city of Arlathan, with its tall, hovering pyramids; the lovely young elf woman, and her handsome human lover, caught in an embrace.  The paintings continued on to show their journey from the city to the Drylands, and back again.  The final scene showed the man kneeling beside the lying figure of the elf in her bed, holding her hand in his.    
    It took Leith a moment to realize that Solas had stopped speaking.  She asked, “What happened then?  Did the woman die?  Were they ever reunited?”  
    “The story ends there,” Solas said.  “There is nothing more.”  
    “That can’t be!  Perhaps they continue on somewhere else, deeper within the cave?  Or could the runes have somehow worn off?”  
    Solas shook his head.  “I have searched the area.  There are no more runes, nor paintings.  And it is highly unlikely for veil runes to simply be removed, even by time.”  
    Distraught, Leith looked up at the wall.  Why would someone leave such a tale unfinished?    
    “Come, we should leave.”  Solas gently took Leith’s arm and guided her toward the cave’s entrance.  They walked together in contemplative silence, and outside the sun had nearly set, as stars began to appear in the purple sky.    
    Solas doused the veilfire beneath the falls, then set the torch back where he’d found it.  Leith watched him in silence, and when he turned back toward her she said, “Solas, you never answered my question.”    
    He looked at her, searching her face, his expression thoughtful.  Leith waited, taking long breaths, and looking deeply into his blue-gray eyes.  At last, Solas said, “The tale we saw ended with the two lovers being separated by circumstance, forced to take two different paths.  Their future is uncertain, just as yours is.  And mine.”  
    Solas’s eyes fell, as he took Leith’s hands into his own.  He gently stroked her knuckles, and she saw his gaze fall upon her left hand, the one which bore the Mark.  Then he said, “You carry a great burden, Leith, and you have a great task ahead of you.  Defeating Corypheus is the only thing you should be focused on.  And once all of this is over… you must decide which path to take next.  As will I.”  
    Leith took a slow step forward, closer to him, until their bodies were almost pressed against each other.  She lifted her hands to his face, forcing him to meet her gaze.    
    “Who says that we cannot walk the same path?” she asked him, softly.    
    Solas smiled sadly.  “I fear it is not that simple.”  
    “Why not?  I love you, Solas.  If you don’t love me, then tell me.”  
    Leith watched his expression, her pulse hammering, fear rising in the back of her throat.  If he wished to end it, if he did not return her feelings, then the least he could do was be up front about it.  Although Leith’s heart might break forever as a result.  
    Solas’s lips parted, just slightly, and Leith resisted the urge to cover his mouth with hers.  His face seemed so vulnerable- such a change from his usual confidence.  She heard his breath catch, and his eyes lowered to her lips.    
     _“Lasa dar av’ahn tel, emma lath,”_ Solas spoke in a raspy whisper.     
     _Let there be no doubt, my love._  
    Unable to hold back any longer, Leith kissed him.  It was a kiss of fire and passion, of all the pent up frustration she’d been keeping inside for so long.  She groaned as Solas returned the kiss with equal urgency, his lips moving strongly, almost frantically, and he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him.  
    This was what Leith had been waiting for.  Not a stolen kiss in the Fade, nor a soft, gentle one filled with shyness and uncertainty.  This kiss was one of hunger, of desperation, of pure wantonness.  Solas’s tongue thrust inside her mouth and danced with hers, and his breathing came in heavy, panting breaths.  He wanted her as much as Leith wanted him, and at last, she knew it.    
    Soon they had discarded their weapons- Solas, his staff, and Leith, her bow, arrow quiver, and belt, which held her daggers- and were lying down on the cool grass, Leith stretched out on her back and Solas placing his weight atop her.  Their lips devoured one another’s, and Leith gasped when Solas took her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it.  His hands were tugging on her shirt, struggling to undo the front buttons.  Leith assisted him with the last few, and soon the shirt was open, and the cool evening air kissed her bare skin.  Her breasts were still covered with a modest band of fabric, but Solas took his time, placing kisses and teasing licks along her navel, making her gasp and twitch.    
    Leith closed her eyes and threw back her head, reveling in the feel of his lips and tongue on her skin.  When Solas’s hand slipped beneath the fabric at her breasts to cup one of the mounds and stroke a nipple with his fingers, Leith cried out and grasped his shoulders tightly.  Solas then pulled the fabric upward, freeing both breasts from their captivity, and his mouth latched onto her nipple.    
    “Solas!” Leith moaned, as he flicked the moist bud with the tip of his tongue, then sucked it once more into his mouth.  One hand cupped the mound as he suckled, while the other toyed with the other, caressing the tip with his fingers, making it stiff.  At last Solas lifted his head upward, and Leith grabbed him and pulled him in for another kiss, devouring his lips and hungrily thrusting her tongue into his mouth.    
    She could feel the stiffness of him through his leggings, prodding against her thigh, and still keeping her mouth on his, Leith reached her hand between their bodies and palmed the length of him through the material.  Solas groaned against her lips, and Leith took that as encouragement.  She stroked his shaft from top to bottom, then up again, feeling him grow even harder.    
    Solas growled, grabbing Leith’s wrist and pinning it over her head.  She grinned mischievously, flicking her tongue against his soft, pouty lips.  Solas lowered his head to kiss her neck, and she gasped when his teeth nipped her there, bringing both pain and pleasure.  Leith supposed it was some sort of punishment for teasing him so mercilessly, but it had been well worth it.    
    Then his hand slipped beneath the top of her leggings, under her smalls, and his fingers found her crevice.  Leith groaned, and her breath quickened as Solas teased her wet center, slipping one finger inside, followed by another.  Leith took the pointed tip of Solas’s ear between her teeth, emitting another low growl from him. Solas moved his fingers rhythmically in and out of her, and Leith felt a fire building in her belly, her hips bucking instinctively against him.  Then Solas’s fingers moved upward, finding the secret nub, and Leith cried out as the pressure built up within her.  He teased and stroked her clitoris with expert precision, and Leith’s cries of pleasure were impossible to restrain.  
     _“Emma garas, Solas!”_ Leith cried out.  
     _“Garas sahlin, ma vhenan,”_ Solas whispered, his mouth taking hers, his tongue slipping between her lips to taste her.    
    Then Leith felt the fire inside her explode, and she screamed her release, clutching Solas’s shoulders for dear life.  When at last the waves of her climax receded, Leith gasped for air and clutched Solas’s head with her hands, hugging him tightly to her.    
    The aftermath of Leith’s ecstasy was cut abruptly short, however, as Solas lifted his head suddenly and grabbed her by the wrist.    
    Startled, Leith’s brow knotted with concern.  “Solas?”  
    “The Mark,” Solas said, his tone suddenly grave.  
    Leith’s head was still fuzzy, her body still in shock from the throes of passion, but she forced herself to lift her head and look at her left hand.    
    It was glowing.  
     _“Fenedhis,”_ Leith cursed, as she struggled to sit up.  Solas was already on his feet, magical staff in hand.  As Leith jumped up, she was barely able to adjust her clothing before grabbing her weapons.  She turned just in time to see the rift that had suddenly appeared in the sky, hovering just above the stream.  It suddenly made sense that there were no animals nearby to hunt.    
    There was a loud crack like thunder, and the two elves readied themselves for the first wave of imminent demons.  Four wraiths appeared- no, five- accompanied by a rage demon, and two shades.  The odds were two against eight.  _Great_.    
    “Take out the rage demon!” Leith shouted to Solas.  Then she disappeared in a cloud of smoke, readying her bow as she attempted to flank the two shades.  The wraiths were troublesome, but not the greatest threat.  Besides, the wraiths were too spread out, and it would be easier to take them out after they had dealt with the others.    
    Solas quickly went to work blasting the rage demon with ice spells, while Leith shot poisoned arrows at the two shades.  The demons shrieked as they were struck, and both turned to come after her.  One of them came dangerously close to striking her with its giant claws, but Leith did a backflip out of harm’s way, shooting another arrow in midair.  As the first shade went down, the second approached, and Leith disposed of it speedily with her flying daggers.  She shot a glance over at Solas, who appeared to be having some trouble with the rage demon, but soon a barrage of energy from his staff brought the creature to its end.    
    Then they concentrated on the wraiths, both firing furiously at the flying specters.  One of them caught Leith in the shoulder with a blast of magic, and she grunted in pain, but did not cease her attack.  Before long, they had disposed of all five of the phantom spirits, and Leith wasted no time in working to close the rift.  A shaft of light pulsed from the Mark on her hand toward the rift, and Leith felt a drop of sweat on her brow as she concentrated all her energy, her hand raised toward the glowing green hole in the sky.      
    Finally, there was an explosion of light, and the rift was gone.  Leith pulled back her hand and closed her fingers over her palm, tightening her fist against the burning sensation left behind.  The pain had once been unbearable, but now it was simply familiar, and it soon passed.  Leith steadied her heavy breathing, then put away her bow and arrow.    
    Solas was standing not far away, his staff held firmly at his side, and his gaze lifted toward the sky.  Leith approached him, placing a hand gently on his chest.    
    “Are you all right?” she asked him.  
    Solas nodded, his eyes still pointed skyward.  “You should head back.”  
    Leith regarded him questioningly.  “What about you?”  
    He finally met her gaze, and the expression in his eyes gave Leith pause.  To her dismay, the warmth and love that had been there just minutes ago was replaced by a cold uncertainty.  Leith felt her heart drop in her chest, and she desperately wished for the other Solas back.    
    “I… I need some time,” Solas said softly.  Without another word, he turned and walked away.    
    Tears sprang to Leith’s eyes as she watched him go.  What could have possibly changed in him so suddenly?  Just when she thought she had gotten through to him, Solas once again put up a barrier between them.  Did their shared moment of passion mean nothing to him?  Had he not just admitted his love for her?  Leith would have almost believed this were another dream, if not for the throbbing pain in her shoulder and the soreness of her muscles from the recent battle.      
    Night had now fallen, and the moon shone overhead.  Feeling dejected and spurned, Leith made her way back to Skyhold alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Elvhen translations:
> 
> "Emma garas" (I'm coming)
> 
> “Garas sahlin, ma vhenan” (Come now, my heart)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leith's frustration has finally reached its breaking point. The Iron Bull has a proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY!
> 
> After months and months of writer's block, I've finally finished the next chapter! It's a short one, and not a lot of smut (my apologies), but I think it's the start of an interesting turn in Leith's story. I hope you enjoy!

_Damn that Josephine._  
    The papers that the ambassador wanted Leith to read and sign off on could not have been more mundane.  Did it really matter if some Fereldan Arl that Leith had never heard of had invited them to attend his son’s wedding? Or that an Orlesian comtesse was offended by the color scheme of her rooms while she’d been a guest at Skyhold?  And the best one, by far, was a Nevarran prince who had offered Leith the opportunity to become one of his consorts.  He had six.    
    Leith was exhausted, both mentally and physically.  It had been weeks since her meeting with Solas in the woods, and as much as she tried, Leith could not strike the memory from her head.  She tried to occupy her thoughts and time with her Inquisitorial duties, but it was becoming more and more difficult.  What she needed was a good night’s sleep, but she was apprehensive of her dreams.  Perhaps she could ask that new potion maker to concoct something for her- what was her name?    
    The afternoon was waning, as evident by the light coming through the windows and the shadows cast upon the stone floor.  Leith debated having her supper sent up to her, so that she could continue the tediousness of paperwork rather than face the rest of the Inquisition.  Part of her knew that she could not hide forever, but another part was holding onto what little dignity she had left.    
     _Damn that Solas!_  
    She was not normally in the habit of cursing people, not even silently.  But all of this was Solas’s fault.  Why would he say that he loved her, but then push her away?  How much “time” did he need, anyway?  
    The door to her private quarters opened, then closed, the sound rudely interrupting her thoughts.  Leith groaned inwardly, assuming it was the new servant girl, Kara.  She always forgot to knock before entering.  On more than one occasion, she had nearly caught Leith in the middle of undressing.    
    But it wasn’t Kara.  
    Leith was caught off guard at seeing the Iron Bull enter her quarters.  He stopped, standing straight and warlike in the center of the room, and stared her down.  
    “Boss, we need to talk.”  
    His tone was like that of a concerned parent.  Leith’s defenses went up reflexively, and she forced herself to take a calming breath.  The last time they had spoken had not been a pleasant encounter, and Leith was still tense from the recollection.  
    Earlier that day, Leith had decided to take a walk through Skyhold’s courtyard to clear her head.  She passed by the training circle where new recruits were sparring, overseen by seasoned soldiers who barked instructions mixed with motivational insults.    
    Leith had marveled over how young a few of the recruits were; one of them could not have been a day over fifteen, barely able to hold a sword.  Still, the young woman did not give up- even after being knocked down countless times by her sparring partner, a man twice her size.  But every time she fell, the girl stood up again, her sword and shield at the ready.    
    “Pretty impressive, isn’t she?”  
    Leith had suddenly noticed the Iron Bull at her side, his arms crossed over his chest, and he nodded toward the girl.  
    “She’s from the Free Marches, I hear,” Bull went on.  “Ostwick, I think.  Sure, she’s kind of scrawny, but she holds her ground.  Got guts.”  
    Thoughtful, Leith turned her gaze back to the young woman in the sparring circle.  The girl barely managed to lift her shield against a blow from her opposition, then she swung her sword with fierce determination, nearly striking a hit before the other soldier dodged the attack.  
    “She needs to swing more from the elbow, not the shoulder,” Leith commented, “and her stance isn’t wide enough.  But yes, her will is quite admirable.”  
    “Mmm-hmm,”  Iron Bull hummed his agreement.  They stood together silently for several moments, watching the trainees.  After a while, Bull said, “So, boss, what’s eating you?”  
    Leith stiffened.  “What do you mean?”  
    Iron Bull turned slightly, facing her.  “You know, the stoic thing doesn’t really fit you, Leith.  No offense.  You’ve been a bit… preoccupied lately, to say the least.  I figured you were just busy with Inquisitor stuff, but there’s something else bothering you.  Isn’t there?”  
    She swallowed, hard, at the lump that arose in her throat.  A part of Leith was annoyed, even angry, at Bull’s directness.  Yet another part of her wanted to confide in him, to release the pent up frustration and anguish that had been building since that day in the woods with Solas.  But what could she say?  How could she begin?  And what comfort, exactly, could the Qunari possibly have to offer?    
    “It’s nothing,” Leith managed, at last.  “Nothing you would understand, anyway.”  
    She could feel Iron Bull’s one good eye on her, but she would not meet his gaze.  Finally he looked away, and another moment of quiet passed between them.  The awkward silence was becoming unbearable, and Leith was just considering walking away when Bull spoke again.  
    “You know, in the Qun there is a saying.”  He paused thoughtfully for a moment, then said, “Well, there’s a lot of words, and it hurts my throat, but basically, it means ‘What we want is not always what we need.’”  
    Leith’s defensive shield grew even more rigid.  Bull had some nerve, assuming he knew what she wanted, or needed.  Tersely, she replied, “Yes, well, you are no longer part of the Qun, are you?”  
    She knew it was petty, and hurtful, and Leith had regretted saying it almost immediately.  It hadn’t been that long since the Iron Bull had been branded Tal-Vashoth, a traitor to the Qunari, after choosing to save the Chargers rather than carry out his orders as a Ben-Hassrath spy.  The wound had to be fresh.    
    But instead of apologizing, Leith had stormed off across the courtyard, away from Bull’s prying.    
    She knew that she had been out of line with him, and she owed him one for that.  But to corner her alone, now, in her private chamber, to lecture her, was unacceptable.  Gathering her composure, Leith stood up slowly from her chair and walked around to the front of the desk.  
    “Bull, I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Leith began, her words coming out in a single rush of breath.  “It was unfair, and I apologize.  But you cannot just burst into my quarters without permission and talk to me like I’m a child.  I’m fine.  I don’t need your help.  All I need right now is to be left alone.”    
    Iron Bull exhaled a heavy sigh, shook his head, then crossed his arms over his massive chest.    
    “You don’t know what you need, Leith.”  
    Taken aback by his statement, Leith mimicked his gesture and crossed her arms.  “Excuse me?” she growled, with all the authority she could muster.  
    “You heard me.  You’ve been walking around like an angst-ridden _imekari_ , pretending to be wrapped up in Inquisitor business.  I get it, you and Solas had some kind of falling out, and now you’re trying to act like it doesn’t bother you.”  
    Infuriated by the Bull’s assumptions, however accurate they might be, Leith opened her mouth for a retort, but he wouldn’t let her get a word in.  He uncrossed his arms and stalked forward, closing the gap between them.  
    “You’re hurting,” Iron Bull went on, his tone more gentle.  “I understand.  Well, okay, maybe I don’t.  Emotions aren’t exactly something that they tolerate under the Qun, but now that I’m no longer under the Qun, as you so astutely pointed out, I’m working on understanding them more.”  
    He stopped directly in front of her, so closely that Leith had to crane her neck upward to look at him.  Her back was against the desk, and she had no where to run.  Accounting for his size, it was almost literally like being trapped between a rock and a hard place.    
    Her heart was suddenly pounding, and her body was flushed with heat.  The Iron Bull’s muscled bare chest was at her eye level, and she had no choice but to stare at it with admiration, resisting the urge to lift her hand and touch his skin.  What would it feel like?  Rough or smooth?  What would it taste like if she dared to stroke the lines of his pectorals with her tongue?    
     _Get a hold of yourself, Leith!_  
    Leith was shocked by how easily the Bull’s closeness had flared up her libido.   Against her better judgement, Leith inhaled deeply, attempting to regain her composure, but it backfired.  The Bull smelled of musk and earth, his scent almost animalistic, though not unpleasant.  It reminded her of her days spent with the clan, out in the wilds, amongst the halla.  The creatures were agile and strong, not unlike Iron Bull.  She had felt a freedom whilst riding the halla that could not be described; the rush of wind against her face and the warm sun beating down; the rhythm of hooves against the earth and the graceful movements of the animal beneath her.    
    Bull spoke again, his low voice rumbling through his massive chest, and Leith struggled to clear her head so that his words could sink in.  
    “You say you need to be alone.  But what you need, Boss, is release.  You need to let go.  Give up control.  To let someone else take the reins.  
    “In other words, you need me.”  
    Leith’s nerves were so on edge, her mind and body so preoccupied that she didn’t quite catch the Qunari’s meaning.  Her mind jumped back to the night that the Iron Bull had offered to join her in her rooms, to keep her company in her bed.  The attraction she felt for him was undeniable, Leith knew, but because of her feelings for Solas, she had willfully put those thoughts aside.  The temptation then had been strong, but it was nothing compared to the impulse she felt at this moment: to touch him, to taste him, to feel his hands on her, his mouth.  In other words, to let all of her good judgement fly out of the window, and let the consequences be damned.  
    What the hell was wrong with her?  Leith’s body was trembling, though whether from anger, fear, or excitement, she didn’t know.  Before she had time to work it out, Iron Bull’s large hand had thrust into her hair, grasping tightly to the roots, and pulled back her head.  Then his horned head descended and his mouth crushed against hers.    
    Leith was too shocked at first to respond.  Then, at last, as though a floodgate had opened, she gave in to the kiss and forgot about everything else.  The Iron Bull’s lips, teeth, and tongue were mercilessly accosting her senses, and even if she wanted to, Leith could not bring herself to come back to reality.  Her breath came in small pants, gasping for air.  Feeling light-headed, Leith grasped onto Bull’s heavily muscled forearms to keep her balance, marveling at their size and sinewy hardness.    
    She felt so small, so vulnerable compared to his massive brawn, and yet the comparison somewhat thrilled her.  Leith was no petite flower, not in body or spirit, but compared to the Qunari warrior now crushing her against his chest, she felt like a child.  Except, of course, for the fact that her body was responding to him in ways that her womanly senses could not ignore: the fluttering in her chest and belly, the weakness in her knees, and the tingling between her thighs.    
    The kiss ended far too quickly for Leith’s liking, and as Bull abruptly pulled his mouth from hers, Leith could not contain a whimper of loss.  She reluctantly opened her eyes and met the warrior’s gaze.  She expected to see a sort of smugness in his expression, but instead, his face was grave.    
   “Last chance,” Bull said softly.  “Tell me to go.”    
    Leith considered his offer.  She should make him leave.  She should have been furious with him, taking advantage of her like this, being so bold in both words and actions.  But deep inside, she knew, Bull was not taking advantage of her; he was offering himself to be taken advantage of.    
    And he was right.  Leith was tired of being in control, tired of everyone looking to her for answers, for leadership.  For once, she wanted to stop being strong, to let someone else take command, to follow.  And the Iron Bull was offering her just that; but, his proposition would not last longer than this moment.  Somehow, Leith knew that this was, indeed, her “last chance.”  
    And she’d be damned if she didn’t take it.  
    “Stay,” Leith whispered.  “Please.”    
    The Iron Bull’s lips twisted with just the slightest hint of a smile.  Leith might normally be inclined to try and analyze the expression, but instead she forced herself to let go, to not think, only to feel.  The Qunari warrior lifted Leith from off her feet and cradled her in his arms, then made his way toward the bed.  It was Orlesian made, an extravagant design that Leith admitted was a bit much for her taste, but the mattress was just the perfect size and texture.    
    Bull set Leith down on the bed, and as he joined her, he hovered over her on all fours.  His gaze penetrated hers for a long moment, its intensity almost frightening.  Yet Leith dared not look away.    
    “There’s nothing else outside this room,” Iron Bull stated, his tone commanding.  “In here, it’s just you… and me.  And I’m the one in charge.  Is that clear?”  
    Leith licked her lips nervously, then nodded.    
    “Say it.”  
    His words resonated with authority, and Leith felt her body quivering with excitement.  “You’re in charge,” Leith whispered.     
    The Iron Bull smiled widely, then slowly, he lowered his mouth to Leith’s ear, his breath whispering against her skin and making her shudder.        “That’s what I like to hear.”    
  

******************************

 When Leith awoke, she was alone.  She had slept deeper than she had in weeks, and without dreams.  Still, it took her a moment to adjust to her surroundings.    
    She was naked in her bed, the silk sheets twisted around her legs.  But she was upside down, her head at the end of the bed, not by the headboard.  By her reckoning, it was early morning, and the sun had just barely risen over the mountains outside.    
    Leith gave herself a moment to let the last evening’s events sink in.  She’d lain with the Iron Bull.  She’d given herself over to him completely, allowing him full control, which was something she’d never done before.  She had never been the submissive type, and yet somehow, it had been so… freeing.    
    A blush rose to her cheeks at the memory.  She could still recall the feel of Bull’s fingers on her skin, his tongue, his teeth.  His touch had been firm, just at the threshold of pain, but never quite crossing over.  He’d whispered heated words, provocative words, that when they came to mind made Leith flush even deeper.  He’d brought her to orgasm several times before even joining with her, in ways that Leith had never imagined possible; it had been as though Bull knew her body better than she did.  
    And then he’d finally entered her, filling her with his massive member, stretching her inside until she thought she might break.  Leith had been apprehensive at first, intimidated by his size, but the Bull had taken his time, made sure she was comfortable before building his pace.  It had hurt a little, at first, but her body soon adjusted, and Leith welcomed his strong, hard thrusts with eager fervor.  
    She came, twice, before the Iron Bull finally succumbed to his own release.  But he wasn’t finished with her yet, not by a long shot.  Only minutes later he was inside her again, changing positions more than once, posing Leith’s body in ways that she hadn’t thought were possible.  She had lost count of her orgasms after the fourth one.  It had been late into the night before Leith finally gave in to exhaustion and fell asleep.    
    Deep in the back of her mind, Leith wondered if she should be ashamed.  But the frightening truth was that she was not.  She still loved Solas.  But Iron Bull had been there for her, had given her what she really needed, wanted.  Not just as a lover, but as a friend.  As much as she tried to summon guilt, there was simply none there.    
    A knock came at the door, and Leith suddenly bolted upright, grappling with the twisted sheets to cover her nakedness.    
    “Yes!”  
    “Inquisitor?” called Leliana’s voice, muffled behind the door.  “Forgive the intrusion, but there is much to discuss.  We must travel to Halamshiral as soon as possible, to speak with the empress.  We’ll be waiting for you in the war room.”  
    “Of course.  I’ll be there soon.”    
    Leith waited until the sound of Leliana’s footsteps had disappeared, then exhaled a heavy sigh.  An Inquisitor’s duty was never done, it seemed.  Reluctantly, she tossed the bed sheets aside and prepared to dress. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the aftermath of "Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts" at Halamshiral.
> 
> Leith contemplates the events at the Winter Palace, then shares a dance with Solas. But someone is watching them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm kind of done apologizing for the shortness of chapters and the length of time between posts. If I write anything at all, it's a victory for me. So if you are still reading this, thank you!

    The palace at Halamshiral was truly the most beautiful place that Leith had ever seen; there were high ceilings, marble floors, and a vast interior dripping with gold and ornate decor.  Everything screamed of luxury and extravagance, a feast for the senses that only Orlais could provide.    
    Leith hated it.     
    Hidden beneath the surface of all that lavishness was nothing but deceit and suspicion.  It was no surprise that the Orlesians wore masks, an attempt to hide their true nature.  Often Leith had heard of Leliana and Josephine speaking of the so-called “great game,” but as Leith recalled, games were supposed to be fun.  There was nothing “fun,” in her mind, about blackmail, intrigue, and lies.    
    As the evening drew to a close, Leith found herself blissfully alone, standing on an empty balcony which overlooked the city.  As she leaned against the railing, she looked up at the night sky and saw the first stars appearing dimly against a dark purple canvas.    
    The circumstances surrounding Celene’s death weighed heavily on Leith’s mind.  Had she made the right decision?  Allowing the assassination had been the best political move, or so Leith told herself.  After all, both Cullen and Leliana believed Gaspard to be more fit for leadership than the empress.  Yet Leith could not deny that she had a personal stake; now, one of her own, an elf, was the true power behind the Orlesian throne.    
    Leith felt a sudden need to take a hot bath and scrub herself raw.  The sooner they got away from Halamshiral, the better.    
    Her thoughts were interrupted by a presence at her side.  Leith turned to see the court enchantress, Morrigan, who met Leith’s gaze with proud, strikingly golden eyes.  Since their first meeting, Leith could not deny that she felt uneasy around the mage.  It wasn’t just Leliana’s warning that sent an alarm off in Leith’s mind.  There was something strange about the woman, something dangerous, and her mood was as dark as her aura.    
    “Here at last I find our absent hero,” Morrigan said, “hidden away despite the efforts of all Orlais to find you.  The elves raise glasses in your honor while the newly crowned emperor glowers.  ’Tis quite the spectacle.”  
    Leith shrugged, attempting nonchalance.  “I just came out for a breath of fresh air.”  
    Morrigan arched a single dark eyebrow.  “I did not wish to interrupt your breathing, only to bring news.”  Her chin lifted slightly, and her already impeccable posture somehow straightened even further.  “By imperial decree, I have been named liason to the Inquisition.  Gaspard wishes to offer any and all aid to the one who supported his ascent to the throne.  So... here I am.”    
    The mage appeared about as pleased as Leith felt.  The idea of Morrigan returning to Skyhold with the Inquisition caused an entirely new kind of apprehension to course through the Inquisitor’s being.      
     “How kind of Gaspard,” Leith said, her tone chilly, “although I would have appreciated some sort of say in the matter.  Just what sort of ‘aid’ do you have to offer?”  
    “I have knowledge which falls... beyond the realm of most mages,” Morrigan replied.  “I suspect this is also true of Corypheus.  Thus it behooves you to add to your arcane arsenal, yes?  Mundane knowledge will not bring the rift in the sky to a close, after all.”        
    Her vagueness and haughty way of speaking caused Leith’s jaw to clench.  Every bone in her body felt instinctively mistrustful of the witch.  Yet despite her gut feeling, Leith had to admit that Morrigan seemed to have some otherworldly knowledge that could be of use to them in their fight against Corypheus.    
    “Very well.  Welcome to the Inquisition, Morrigan.”  Leith held out her palm for the enchanter to shake, but when Morrigan ignored the gesture, Leith awkwardly returned the hand to her side.      
    “I shall meet you at Skyhold,” Morrigan said, before turning and striding regally toward the palace interior.  Leith briefly watched her go before turning back to the balcony’s edge to continue her stargazing.  Yet another thing for her to wonder whether or not she had made the right choice.  Those moments were becoming more and more frequent in the recent weeks.      
    Leith sighed heavily, leaning on her elbows against the railing.  She wondered where the others were.  Sera was no doubt up to some mischief, either Red Jenny business or putting a mouse down some noble’s trousers.  Her advisors were probably discussing the night’s events, and how best to turn them to their advantage.    
    That just left Solas, and the Iron Bull.    
    It had been nearly a week since Leith had spent the night with Bull.  The memory of it made her flush from her toes to the tips of her pointed ears.  They had spoken casually once or twice since then, always in the company of others.  Yet they hadn’t discussed what occurred between them- and honestly, Leith wasn’t certain she was ready to talk about it yet.    
    She knew she had to tell Solas.  The longer she waited, the worse things would be for everyone involved.  Surely Solas would be understanding, if only Leith was honest.  She wasn’t particularly worried about the Iron Bull; surely he had only intended their affair to last only for that one night.  Besides, their attraction to each other was purely physical, while her connection with Solas was so much deeper.    
    Leith had forgiven Solas for leaving her alone that day in the woods, after showing her the runes in the cave.  Perhaps it was her own guilt, or maybe she had simply needed time for her anger and frustration to appease.  If only Solas would open up to her more.  Maybe if she was honest with Solas about Bull, he would, in turn, be more open and honest with her.    
    He might be angry, at first.  But he loved her, Leith had no doubt, and surely they would find a way to get passed it.   
    As though he knew she was thinking of him, Solas suddenly appeared at Leith’s side, leaning against the railing next to her.  He was striking in his formal attire and cap, and unlike her, Solas seemed to be completely comfortable in the traditional Fereldan garb.  Leith felt a surge of both excitement and apprehension at his presence.    
    “I’m not surprised to find you out here,” Solas said with a warm smile.  “Thoughts?”  
    Leith returned the smile, though she still felt heavy from the night’s events.  “I’m not sure I did the right thing, letting the empress die.”  
    Solas nodded.  “Sometimes sacrifices must be made.  Nothing is ever won without something else being lost.  Remember the lesson, but do not dwell on it.”  He paused thoughtfully, then directed his blue-gray gaze intently on Leith’s.  “You didn’t invent war, Leith.”  
    Leith let out a sad sigh.  “Perhaps not.  But it doesn’t mean I have to enjoy its cruel machinations.  Or the fact that I cannot avoid getting involved, no matter how much I wish to.”    
    Gently, Solas laid his hand on hers.  “You have a good heart.  Too good for the ‘great game’ of Orlais.  And everything else, for that matter.”    
    A stab of guilt hit Leith in the gut, but she quickly dismissed it.  She turned to face Solas, lifting her free hand to cup the side of his face, and looked deeply into his eyes.    
    “I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.  “I’ve missed being with you like this.”  
    Solas replied by grasping her fingers against his cheek and moving them to his lips, placing the tenderest of kisses on the tips.  Leith’s heart leapt in her chest, elated.  This time, he wasn’t pulling away, he wasn’t pushing her aside.    
    With a smile, Solas took a step back from the edge of the balcony.  Before Leith could protest, he said, “Come, before the night is over- dance with me!”  
    His proposal surprised her, and Leith giggled as Solas bowed low and offered his hand.  “I’d love to,” she replied.  She took Solas’s offered hand, and let him draw her close.  Leith could barely hear the music coming from inside the ballroom, but it didn’t matter.  As they swayed together on the balcony under the stars, Leith’s heart was filled with joy.  All of her anxieties seemed to melt away as she gazed into Solas’s bright blue eyes, drank in his warm smile, and for a moment, they were the only two people in Halamshiral.  
    But they were not alone.  
    From the corner of her eye, Leith saw someone standing just inside the doors of the palace, watching them.  Solas turned her in his arms, giving Leith a better view of the voyeur.    
    It was the Iron Bull.  
    A sudden dread, like a shard of ice, stabbed at Leith’s gut.  She tried, in that brief moment, to read the qunari’s expression, but his years of Ben-Hassrath training had served him well.  There was no emotion on that stony exterior, and in a blink he was gone.     
    “Vhenan, is something troubling you?”  There was concern in Solas’s voice, and Leith did her best to give him her sweetest smile.   
    “It’s nothing, ma lath.”  She buried her head against his shoulder, breathing in his fresh, pleasing scent.  This was where she wanted to be.  Where she truly belonged.


End file.
